


Crash

by Saber_Wing



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous Slash, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saber_Wing/pseuds/Saber_Wing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collision course: engaged. But McCoy would be damned if he stood by and watched Jim burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> And this is the story of how I accidentally wrote McKirk.
> 
> Well, not really. It actually is a friendship fic, but I was reading through it on one of my editing purges and oh my God, it is so incredibly gay. In a good way of course. That being said, it's so ambiguously slashy in some places, please feel free to interpret this scene as you will. I am by no means against the pairing. I'm primarily a Spirk girl (there are vague references to Jim having a relationship with Spock in this), but I love me some McKirk if it's written well too.
> 
> That being said, this fic explores Jim's vulnerable side, since I've seen so many portrayals of him that bother me. I feel as if most of the time, he is either too weepy and pathetic at the slightest little things and it ends up over the top, or he's just this 'Mr. Perfect, look at me and all of these things I do right, I'm never wrong, I just got raped and tortured but that's okay because I'm perfect' kind of character, neither of which particularly appeal to me.
> 
> Perfect characters are boring, and Jim Kirk is not boring. He makes mistakes, he has his weaknesses and all of these things as well as the good ones make him who he is. I feel like it is a disservice to his character if you don't try to achieve that medium. He doesn't fall apart at the slightest sign of pressure like I've seen a lot of people write him as in breakdown fics, but neither is he completely unruffled all the time. I tried to achieve that medium here, and I hope I succeeded.
> 
> Oh and I guess I can also blame the fantastic Bebedora partially for this too, since she beta reads my Star Trek pieces and is writing a fantastic McKirk as we speak.
> 
> God, that was one monster of an author's note. I won't keep you any longer. On with the story!

Leonard McCoy hated being kept waiting. He had better things to do than waste time running around like a jackass with his head cut off. All it did was encourage Jim, who wasted no opportunity to jerk him around with his antics.

_Keep telling yourself that, you sorry son of a bitch._

He grumbled expletives to himself as he hit a button on the intercom outside Jim's quarters, wondering just how in the hell this kid had him wrapped so thoroughly around his finger. House calls. He did  _not_ do house calls unless somebody was puking, bleeding or dying. Preferably all three of those in that order. As it was though, Jim hadn't left him much of a choice. Not only had his 'holier-than-thou' captain skipped out on his physical yesterday: now he was late for his yearly vaccinations.

Leonard remembered what happened last time Jim decided he didn't need those, in their academy days. He'd ended up with a very sick roommate who clung to him all night with a fever of one-hundred-and-three, a foot swollen twice its size and a migraine it had taken him days to get rid of. Not counting Jim's recovery time, that was. Andorian fever was  _not_ on his list of Jim-related disasters to repeat. That was for damn sure. Neither were any of the scores of other diseases he would be susceptible to without those shots.

"God damn it, Jim! Answer this door! You do realize I have an override code, right?"

He waited impatiently for another five seconds, convinced by now that his friend was deliberately ignoring him. He'd been standing outside this door for two minutes and had yet to receive anything more than a few curious looks from passing crew members.

"I'm a doctor, not a one night stand. I don't sit in that sick bay all day just to wait pathetically for you to call me! You are  _not_ getting out of these vaccinations, do you hear me?"

No response.

McCoy scowled. Clearly he was talking to this lovely door panel.

"You're scheduled to go down with next week's landing party and I am not letting you leave this ship without them!"

This was ridiculous. He was the Chief Medical Officer, he had a code and he was going to use it. All the same, Leonard cringed, hand hovering over the digits. Jim damn well better not be blowing Spock in there or something, because he was  _so_ not the one who wanted to walk in on that shit. For a moment he was tempted to turn heel and walk away just at the thought, but instead he strengthened his resolve, squared his shoulders and punched his numbers into the glowing keypad. These vaccinations were happening and they were happening  _now,_ Leonard didn't give a damn what or  _who_ Jim was doing.

The door slid open. Hesitantly, he stuck his head through the opening and peered inside. The lights were on and the room appeared empty. Once he was sure there was nothing going on in the bedroom area he stepped fully inside, locking the door behind him.

"Jim?"

The bathroom door was ajar and the shower was running.

The sound of running water came as no surprise. Jim had never been partial to sonic showers. Leonard frowned as he realized how hot it was in there, though. Damp too. His clothes felt saturated and he'd just walked in. Then he noticed the mirror by the bedside table, dripping with condensation. The water must have been running very hot – for a very long time.

That was when he got it.

And instantly wished he hadn't.

Shit.

Fuck.

_Jim._

_Let me be wrong._

_Just once, let me be wrong._

_I'm gonna sprint through that door to see James Tiberius Kirk poking his head out wit_ h  _a shit-eating grin._

" _If you wanted a peek, you should have just asked, Bones!" He'll quip with a smile; snarky, sarcastic. The biggest little dickhead I ever knew._

_Then we'll have a good laugh._

_We will, won't we?_

_Jim?_

Almost of their own accord, Leonard's feet pounded across the carpet and carried him through the bathroom door. He shoved the sliding glass of the shower stall aside-

And promptly felt his heart drop clean through the floor.

His best friend was huddled in the far corner, pressed against the wall. His skin was red and raw, hair plastered to his forehead. Forearms damn near bleeding, he had scrubbed at them so hard.

Those big baby blues of his were wild and red-rimmed, though Leonard saw no evidence of tears. Of course not. Jim was back on Tarsus fighting for his life. Despair had no place there. The second you allowed it, you were dead.

McCoy had seen this behavior before—at the academy.

Jim had come home from his ethics class one day, shaking and completely incoherent. It was only after he'd calmed him down with a hypo and some scotch that he got him to talk. Apparently the day's subject matter disturbed him, but even loosened with alcohol, he refused to say more. When the poor kid finally passed out, McCoy decided it was worth it to violate his privacy and rifle through his bag – just to see what he could find. An open document on Jim's PADD caught his attention.

One word glared up from the page: Tarsus IV. Sure enough, when he finally managed to crack Jim's air-tight medical files, his worst assumptions were proven true.

His fists clenched. Leonard McCoy was no murderer, but someday, somehow he was going to track Kodos down.

And he was going to make him hurt in ways neither of them had ever even  _dreamed_  of.

"Jimmy?" He crept forward cautiously, left hand splayed out in front of him in what he hoped was a placating gesture. With his right, he reached for the faucet. Jim was drenched. He needed to get him out of the water.

With lighting fast reflexes, Jim grabbed his wrist and held it back. And when their eyes met, Leonard had to suppress a shudder.

Over the years he'd talked him down from plenty of breakdowns, but he wasn't sure he'd seen that killer instinct in his eyes before. Nevertheless, it was certainly there now. It was  _there_ and it drilled right through him. It saw him not as 'Bones' but a threat to be neutralized.

For the first time since they'd met, his friend was looking at him as if he'd never known him at all. And that more than anything else, scared the hell out of him.

"I need that." The words were rough, grating and nearly unrecognizable. This was the voice of a young man with nothing left but his anger and the basest instincts to survive. "It won't come off."

McCoy didn't pretend not to know what  _it_ Jim was referring to.

"Jim. Look at me. You  _know_ me. Try to remember."

"I don't give a  _fuck_ who you are! You probably don't have long anyway. Which list were you on? Why hasn't he caught you? Are you a spy? Did he send you to hunt me down?" he questioned, voice rising and falling with a hysterical edge.

For the first time, it occurred to Leonard that he could be in very real danger. Jim was a lethal man when driven to desperate measures.

It didn't matter. He'd brought him back literally after he'd already crossed death's doorstep. He was not going to lose him to a memory, not now. It was too cruel.

"I wasn't on any list, Jim! Kodos isn't here. This isn't Tarsus!"

Despite his best efforts, Leonard couldn't quite suppress the gasp that escaped his lips as he was grabbed by the collar and slammed against the tile wall. Jim brought his face mere inches from his own and drew his mouth into a sneer that might have been menacing, if his lips hadn't been trembling.

"I don't know what the hell you think you're playing at man, but just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm fucking  _stupid._ I've survived this long haven't I? ' _This isn't Tarsus'_  he says. You're right, it's not. It's hell and we're living it. What kind of a fool do you take me for? You're either a really stupid spy or you're delusional."

Leonard winced inwardly. That went well. Maybe it was time for another approach.

He slumped within Jim's grasp, stopped struggling and stared straight back into those crazy eyes, resigned. "Okay."

That seemed to make Jim pause. Puzzlement entered his gaze. "Okay? That's it? Just 'okay?'"

"Yeah. You're right. I just wanted your help, that's all. You're the only one who can do it, Jim. Help me. Please."

Leonard wasn't sure quite what he'd been expecting in response. It wasn't laughter, but that was what he got, and the hysterical edge to it broke his heart. "You've come to the wrong place. I can't help you. Do I look like a crisis hotline?  _Look at me!"_ Abruptly, he let go of Leonard's shirt, gestured to himself with one hand and slammed his fist into the tile, shaking a few pieces lose and lodging the corner of one deep into the flesh of his hand.

Blood oozed from the wound, shallow enough he expected, though probably deep enough for a stitch or two.

"We need you, Captain. The Enterprise needs you. Help me. Please help me."

For a moment, he looked like the lost thirteen year old he claimed to be. Something flashed in his expression. Recognition? Confusion? Anything was progress.

Abruptly, the young man recoiled and released his grip, backing away like a caged animal. He retreated to the corner he'd started from with a guttural sob and went back to scrubbing his upper arms.

With his nails this time.

Leonard took the chance and inched forward on his hands and knees.

Jim made no move to stop him. He just sat there, head down like a broken thing, rubbing off blood stains only he could see. That was what he looked like now. Broken. It was horrible to think of him that way, because no matter what crazy shit happened to that kid, he got back up and kept fighting.

Right now was no exception. The man simply did not know how to  _lose._ He genuinely thought he was supposed to be a pillar of strength all the time and that wasn't healthy. Worst case of a hero complex he'd ever seen, but who could blame him? He'd spent the better part of his life listening to the entire known universe rave about how great his dad was for making the ultimate sacrifice.

It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. But few things ever were.

When he reached his side, he placed a hand on a trembling shoulder and Jim looked up, eyes still red and this time filled with tears.

"Help me, Jim. Help me help you. When I met you all I had left was my bones. I don't wanna go back to that. Don't make me."

That seemed to hit a nerve. He watched those bright blue eyes as something snapped back into place.

And felt his heart sink as it faded yet again. The eyes that turned on him were still foreign and oh so young.

Damn it. Jim was in there. He could see him. All he needed was another little push.

So Leonard did the only thing he  _could_ do.

He slapped him.

Before he even completely realized his own intention, he'd already pulled back his arm, opened his palm and smacked him clear across the cheek, so hard it echoed off the walls.

The gaze that snapped onto him moments later genuinely belonged to Jim Kirk this time.

_Really? God damn it. Should have done that in the first place._

"Bones?"

Jim was looking at him, eyes wide as they darted from side to side. Taking in the crushed tile. The blood. His own naked body. Leonard's clothes, rumpled and torn.

Those moments were all he needed to realize what had happened. What he'd done. He covered his mouth with his hand, horrified. "Oh my God. Oh my  _God."_

Leonard took that as his cue and shut the water off, snatching a towel from the rack and wrapping it around Jim's shoulders.

"Why did you  _stay_? You should have left. I could have hurt you."

Leonard scowled. "I could never leave you in a state like that and you damn well know it. What kind of a friend would I be?"

"One who was still alive! You don't know. You don't  _know_. If I was on Tarsus…I could have killed you. I would have without a second thought. That's how it works there."

"Jimmy…"

"No, Bones. Never again, do you hear me? If this happens again you run like hell, you find Spock and you have me incarcerated, do you understand? I'll make that an order if I have to."

"God damn it, Jim, you need to cut yourself a little slack. I don't know how you didn't see this coming, but I sure as hell did. This collision course has been set ever since the whole mess with Khan. You can't just take everything you don't know how to accept and shove it in a box at the back of your mind. You have to actually  _deal_  with it or it's gonna eat you alive! What do you expect?"

For once, Jim had nothing to say. He just stared back at Bones, clutching the towel tighter around his middle. The expression on his face was so pitiful, Leonard felt his anger wilt a little bit and he threw his arm around his friend's shoulders.

"You're not crazy, kid. You're not dangerous either. Stupid? Yeah. Kind of an asshole? Damn right. But you don't get to just chalk yourself up as a lost cause without even trying first, and the next time you suggest something like that, I'll deck you so hard you're gonna see what's goin' on back home in Iowa. Understand?"

The silence was deafening, reigning for almost a full minute before he received a response, noncommittal though it was.

"Yeah. I get it." The words were mumbled and he wouldn't look at him, but that was okay. He always drew into himself at first. Leonard knew how to handle him when he was like that.

_Handle?_

He winced inwardly at his choice of wording. No, not handle. Help. That was better. Jim wasn't an object or an unbroken horse and he refused to speak of him that way.

He had always been praised for his bedside manner. It was time to put that knowledge to good use.

"Good. Now come on, buddy. Let's get you cleaned up, huh?"

* * *

"You know, you're clingy when you're upset."

Jim punched him in the side, then went back to using his thigh as a pillow. "So push me off then."

McCoy said nothing. They both knew he didn't mind. Instead he pulled the covers more securely around him, inspecting Jim's bandaged hand one last time to make sure he was satisfied with his handiwork.

"So what happened, huh? What brought it on this time?"

"I don't know. I really was just taking a shower to start with and then…I don't know. I started thinking too much about Tarsus and the whole dying thing and I freaked the fuck out. This has happened before. You've seen it. I can control the impulses most of the time, but when I let them consume me, bad things happen. I shower obsessively and no matter what I do, if I slip even a little…"

Jim paused, unsure. But that was probably as much of an admission he was ever going to get from the young captain that he had a problem, at least for now. It was a start.

"Spock still doesn't know about these episodes, does he?"

"No. I know I need to tell him. He'll understand. Or try to anyway. I just don't want him to feel like he has to protect me from it, you know? So I have some compulsions to work through. Big deal, right?"

"Don't fuckin' do that. Don't brush this off. The only person you're really tryin' to convince here is yourself, and we both know you're failing. And you can stop that other line of thought right now too, because OCD is nothing to be ashamed of. Neither is post-traumatic stress. You can keep your badass image or whatever and still ask for help sometimes and you know what? That's okay. You lived through a planet wide genocide, Jim. If all you need to do to stay sane is take a few too many showers, I think you're doin' pretty good. Christ. All the shit you've been through. I'd be worried if there weren't a few screws loose."

Jim tilted his head back just enough to shoot him an incredulous look before he dead-panned his response.

"The screws aren't just loose, Bones. They're not even  _there."_

For a few seconds, neither of them said a word.

Then they both just  _looked_  at each other and burst into laughter.

"Who the fuck are we kidding? We could probably hold the Enterprise together with how many of those we've lost between us," Leonard quipped, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Bones. You're always the one who has to deal with this bullshit. That sucks. I don't know why you put up with me."

"Yeah, well. Let that insufferable hobgoblin in on the secret and we can take turns."

Jim burrowed deeper under the covers and sighed contentedly, head still pillowed on Leonard's leg. "Was that you saying you're okay with us? Spock and I, I mean."

"I can't say I understand what you see in him but if he makes you happy…then he makes me happy." He muttered the last part so quietly it was almost inaudible, but Jim must have heard, because his answering grin was full of mischief.

"So I should tell Spock he indirectly makes you happy?"

"I will  _kill_ you in your sleep."

"No you won't. You love me. You've had plenty of reasons to smother me with a pillow by now and I'm still here."

"Sure. For now. Don't push it, asshole."

Leonard felt Jim's mouth curl into a smile against his leg.

Silence set in, lingering for so long, Leonard thought maybe he'd fallen asleep. Then his friend shifted slightly.

"Bones?" Jim whispered, voice small and unsure.

"Hmm?"

"You're right. I didn't deal with anything. Now I'm paying for that. God, I didn't even know who you  _were-_ " His voice broke and he trailed off. Without looking, Leonard knew his friend was holding back tears.

He held him tighter. "I know. We'll figure it out, all right? And don't think you're getting out of those vaccinations kid, 'cause you'd be dead wrong."

"I was kind of hoping you'd forget about them."

"Yeah, you would you colossal pain in the ass."

That elicited a weak chuckle from Jim, muffled since he was currently executing an oh-so-dignified face plant into Leonard's favorite scrub pants.

"Love you too, Bones."

Leonard rolled his eyes, but couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. Sure, he might bitch and moan about all the shit Jim put him through, but when he thought of where his life would be if he hadn't met him that day on the shuttle? Well. Let's just say he didn't _like_  to think about it.

All the same, his unruly captain would no doubt end up giving him an ulcer one day.

_God damn it, Jim._

He shook his head, gazed down at him and smiled.


End file.
